Monday is another day
But so is Tuesday and Wednesday
How about Thursday
Then again, there’s always Friday
The weekend is here
Maybe it’s supposed to be at week’s end, Saturday
or at the beginning on a Sunday
back to Monday
mid-week Wednesday
the day of the week, not even the hour, matters
Because nobody is promised the next day
Nobody is promised next few seconds
Every Day is another Day
To Begin Again
With the morning dew
I rise
thankful for each breath, each sight, each scent
The fact that I can move my limbs
enunciate thankful musical hymns
Simple things my younger self depreciated
Simple things my older self appreciates
Caress that heals
Touch that peels
Years of sanity
Dumped to the abyss
Empty valleys
Decaying myths
One touch can soothe
One-touch pruning off our core
wasted adorn
For one touch can build
One touch can demolish
Caress that remodels
Embrace that rebottles
One must be mindful
The power of connection
Mirage or Fulfilled embrace
When the weather is dry
We want rain
When the rain comes
We want dry land
When the snow forms
We want sunlight
When the sun heats up
We want cooler weather
When our hair curls
We want straight strands
When is a guaranteed change
Nothing is ever the same
The pause to be thankful and be
Becomes the only constant
Until When
Did you know?
water evaporates
When heated at high temperatures
Only to rise, high into the sky
as the fluffiest of clouds
white cottony velvet, the more it evaporates
The more it forms
The more it morphs
into a darkened matter
full of thunder, lightning, and rain
exploding into the earth
full of overflowing storms
The rivers flow
cathartic show
the lakes, the oceans, the sea form
Then one day, the sun glows
The Earth heats
Evaporates
The cycle repeats, again, and again, and again, and again
The illusionist Forever
hiding behind the mask of memories
deep in the crevices of brain matter
flowing through each neuron, flowing water
Breathing through each dermal pore
delusional parasite in the womb of its host
Nothing lasts forever
not your worries, not your fears
not your joys, or your good fortunes
not your tragedies, or your sorrows
not your best moments, not even your life
Forever the Mascaraed
Forever The Illusionist
The struggles are real
The battles of fear
In the darkest of moments
Blurry components
Blinders in chaos
Spares no opponents
Yet karma doesn’t always deliver
Because sometimes
in those moments
Moving in grace
through that critical space
is the new beginning
awaited deliverance
Three steps forward
two steps back
a child is birthed
only to mourn
the unfairness of life
grief’s warranty
Four steps forward
three steps back
loss is a given
trial and error
trial and loss
loss after loss
three steps forward
two steps back
wounded and jaded
weakness has faded
only to be seen at times
in the sea saw called life
the timing is never quite right
never quite ready
yet somehow, eventually
we strive to arrive
stepping forward and back
In my darkest days
I learned to see
To dance at its core
Recreational store
Selling goods and deeds
For any ailing hunger that feeds
For in my darkest days
there was no light
But I learned to see
What is joy without a teardrop?
What is life without death?
What is happiness without sadness?
What is trust without deceit?
What is honor without disgrace?
What is trust without jealousy?
What is confidence without insecurities?
What is calm without chaos?
What is wisdom without folly?
What is strength without weakness?
What is Love without Hate?
What is perfection without mistakes?
What are good deeds without sin?
Perhaps simply just another unfelt blank space
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